


crescendo

by heishui



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, Dragons, M/M, Modern Royalty, Multi, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heishui/pseuds/heishui
Summary: Kang Yeosang is 22, majoring in Poitical Science and somehow, the heir of his clan and the future Empress of of the Daehan Jeguk, the Great Empire of Korea.The Emperor is murdered just four years into Yeosang's engagement with the Crown Prince, effectively closing all contact of the Imperial Palace with the outside world. Yeosang sees neither hide nor hair of his fiancé for the next six years, until the younger man is sent to Seoul National University where Yeosang studies.Yeosang thinks that's the worst of it. Surely nothing can be worse than having to go to the same school as his fiancé and pretend he's a normal fucking person, can it? Until the first murder starts, and their friend group is thrown into the thick of it.Gods above, Yeosang's life is so tiring.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> due to popular demand (i.e. the two people who voted yes when i asked if i should post this) i have delivered.
> 
> someone on twitter said naga jongsang with no context so me (being me) decided to make my own context . this work is 100% fueled by @viktorikat's [seongjoong au!](https://twitter.com/viktorikat/status/1174141719425642497?s=19)

Kang Yeosang, the direct descendant of Kang Yisik and grandson of Kang Yongin, meets the crown prince of South Korea when he is twelve years old.

He remembers whining a lot about having to travel to Jinju, even though it’s barely two hours from Pohang. It’s mostly just because he doesn’t want to see his grandmother, a scarily elegant woman who looks barely a day over thirty, yet has lived through countless wars. His noona says that she was born already knowing how to shift fully into her _yong_ form, and even scales peek out from under her collar in her human form.

Yeosang’s awed, and deathly afraid of her if he’s speaking honestly.

On the way, they meet up with Taehyun and his family, so it’s more bearable. His lanky, stick-like cousin tells him he’s had to sit in the car a whole one and a half hours before they’d met up in Daegu, and they solemnly decide family gatherings in Jinju are the worst over their meal of chicken nuggets at some backstreet rest stop. Their older siblings laugh at them before delving into their teenage topics, Yeosang and Taehyun looking at them, then at each other.

Yeosang rolls his eyes and mouths _Teenagers, am I right,_ sending Taehyun into fits of giggles.

There’s another retinue of black limousines that have come along with Taehyun’s family, and one of their doors open to a boy, not much older than them but already taller and far more elegant. They invite him to come over, and he introduces himself as Park Seonghwa.

He’d come along with his father for an important meeting with the Jinju Kang clan’s matron, he says, getting the official-sounding words out with no difficulty, looking immensely proud with himself as he chews on a chicken nugget primly. He has an almost indecipherable Gyeongsangnam-do accent, though, even stronger than Yeosang's. Seoul-born Taehyun looks bewildered as he listens, turning to Yeosang for help every once in a while.

“Your father?” Yeosang’s noona murmurs. Kang Yeseul looks deep in thought as she tunes in on their conversation, Taehyun’s older siblings seemingly excited at the little piece of information as well. “Is your father the Emperor, by any chance?”

Seonghwa laughs, putting on an affronted air. “That’d be treason of me to say,” he giggles. “My father is Head of the Imperial Guard.” As he shifts, his collar rides down low enough for Yeosang to spy the telltale markings of a tiger on his shoulder. He can bet that the cap he’s sporting is hiding away furry ears, noting the absence of them by the sides of his head. “My hyung’s ‘posed to take after him and become the next Head, but he doesn’ wanna, so ‘s fallen to me, I guess—”

“ _Seonghwa!_ ” A woman shrieks, bringing them out of their little bubble. Just as fast, Seonghwa is dragged away by a woman as quick as lightning. Yeosang laughs, likening the scene to a kitten being pulled away by the scruff of its neck.

“What if they tell everyone about the meeting, Seonghwa!” The woman, presumably Seonghwa’s mother, scolds. “You know this is of utmost importance to your father! This concerns the…”

Out of nowhere, Yeosang’s father creeps up from behind them, hefting them up over his shoulders and stalking towards the bathroom, ignoring the squeals and demands of the two boys to be let down. They’re quickly stripped and dressed in formal wear, four layers of hanbok in the black and gold clan colours, a dragon cradling what’s supposed to be a crepe myrtle, according to his mother. Taehyun complains about the stuffiness of it all, even though Yeosang’s aunt lectures him about Jinju’s silk trade and how highly prized it was among the empire, but Yeosang can only think about the last fragment of the woman’s sentence.

“…the finding of the future empress.”

🐉

“Mother,” Yeosang’s father and uncles greet his grandmother simultaneously, bowing low; his mother and aunts married into the family follow suit with a chorus of “Mother-in-law”, nudging the children to do the same, shaky _Grandmother_ s floating about the room.

Up close, Yeosang’s grandmother is terrifying. Streaks of silver run through her hair, although her face doesn’t look a day past thirty. It’s pulled into a tight updo, a glazed wood ornament pierced through it almost sternly. Her hanbok has to be more than four layers, shades of emerald green and sapphire blue and ruby red peeking through the black.

Like precious stones peeking through dark earth, Yeosang realises. Representing our _hyunryong_ lineage.

His family estate is grand, though only his grandmother and her staff reside here. It’s a sprawling maze of buildings like the ones at those culture villages his mother and father have brought him to. Everyone is dressed in hanbok, like those periodic dramas that his mother likes, and they’re rushing around as their car rolls to a stop outside the front gates.

“Young masters!” Someone calls, and it’s immediately followed by choruses of the title. There’s a flurry of noise and action before they’re being herded out of the car and whisked into what his father calls the “reception room”. Taehyun is startled as the waiting staff bows towards him as she pours him a cup of some earthy-smelling tea and retreats out of the room, making Yeosang laugh and pull a face at him.

The room is decorated lavishly, done in shades of black and purple; motifs of dragons are everywhere, from the feet of the couches to the folding screens, and even on the vases. Likewise, the vases themselves are filled to the brim with carefully trimmed crêpe myrtles like the flowers embroidered on his robes, the flower of the South Gyeongsang Province. There are six long couches in the room, arranged into a wide rectangle, two rows of cushiony seats opening up to another one, considerably larger than the rest of the others, yet with only the space for one person. Like a throne, Yeosang thinks.

No matter how many times Yeosang has come to his family estate, it still intimidates the hell out of him.

Normally, their family meetings are held like this: Yeosang and Taehyun are given the two seats on the left and right of the throne, while his other cousins are delegated to the rest. “It’s because it’s arranged by age, and we’re the kids of the eldest sons,” his noona had whispered when he’d asked her about it a few years ago. “Our aunts and uncles who married out of the clan don’t get to bring their kids, see? Because their kids aren’t part of the clan.”

This time, their families have been pushed back a couch, and the aforementioned aunts and uncles aren’t even in the audience. The two seats on the left and right of the throne are empty, like _yong_ awaiting masters, and Yeosang shifts uncomfortably. The room is nearly choking with the scent of the flowers, but no one says a thing, merely training their eyes on the door.

Here, Yeosang can see where the dragon in his family lies exactly. It’s not often that his parents shift, so he forgets that they’re not perpetually charged with a power strong enough to topple mountains. The Jinju Kang clan were well known for their _hyunryong_ , or more commonly named, _heukryong_ lineage.

_Heukryong_ , literally translated as “black dragon”, were masters of the earth, easily sensing and sifting through mud, silt, soil and even rock to unearth precious metals and stone. The leading Jinju Kang family had bred well, not one of them failing to wrest that power deep in them and master it. It had quickly earned them a name tracing back to Gojoseon, allotting the imperial family wealth and in turn, granting them _yangban_ status.

Here, the leading family of their old clan awaited the arrival of their matron, eyes flashing gold and talons being unsheathed. Yeosang whimpers at the palpable tension in the room, tugging on his mother's _goreum,_ earning a whispered, "Be quiet, baby."

He doesn't know how to describe it, instincts telling him to leave, stay, wait, _run—_

The door swings wide open and closes with a resounding bang as the matron of the Jinju Kang clan sweeps inside. Like his noona had told him, he sees the black scales that start at her wrist and lead into her voluminous robes, black-tipped claws never retreating. It was as if his grandmother was so powerful she couldn’t hide it, half-shifted all the time because the dragon could never recede.

“I have called upon a family meeting today,” his grandmother’s voice booms after they greet her. “To decide on two very important courses of action.” She stalks past in a flurry of skirts, the gemstones in her hair glinting in the light as she sits gracefully on her throne.

“The first, which will decide on the clan’s future as a whole: I will be picking the next heir.”

The tension in the room seems to reach a breaking point. Yeosang sees some of his aunts start praying manically, some uncles start grinning. He grimaces, eyes meeting with Taehyun’s. His younger cousin returns the gesture, rubbing his wrist uncomfortably. He likes to think that his family are generally peaceful, always united, but even family ties are thrown away in the face of power.

His grandmother’s eyes slide close, gesturing for a servant to bring her something. The hired help bows, quickly retrieving a thick book, bound with dark wood and with Hanja inscribed on the cover. He can read the family name, but all else is lost to him. If he has to guess though, it’s most probably their family register.

“Per the clan rules,” his grandmother says, with all the power of an avalanche. “We are to pick one heir, direct descendant of the founder of the clan, born exactly two centuries after the current leader, giving them ample time to learn the burdens before the current leader has to step down at age 250.” Yeosang feels more than sees his third uncle tense up, hand gripping the armrest.

Ah right, he remembers attending his younger cousin’s _man-wol,_ the first-month celebration of a child. His third uncle, having downed one too many bottles that night, had gleefully proclaimed his daughter to be the next heir of their clan, seeing that she was born soon after Yeosang’s grandmother’s 200th birthday.

“Kang Junghwan!” His grandmother barks, levelling a golden stare at him. The room jumps, as if not having sensed the obvious gripe his uncle had. “You will behave yourself, or have you forgotten that I am your mother?”

His uncle pales. “No, _eomeonim._ ”

The Kang matron stares a while longer before she looks back down on the thick volume in her hands. “This is the family register, stating all the Jinju Kang clan members born in this century. However, the third son is right—Kang Raon, born in the year 2010, would be the next clan leader.”

His grandmother pauses as if savouring her son’s elation. The cousin in question gurgles happily, the little dragon shifting around in her mother’s arms. Yeosang can feel the resignation pulsing throughout the room, paired with his father’s....delight? Yeosang cannot fathom why his father would be delighted if his cousin would be chosen. His father doesn’t want either him or his noona to continue his family legacy? He was the one who had told Yeosang to never forget he was a Jinju Kang, that he and his sister were his pride—

“ _If_ I were the clan leader,” his grandmother finishes smugly. It’s as if someone has dropped a bomb in the elegant reception room. Confusion ripples throughout the room, and Yeosang’s father blanches.

“I am, after all, only the interim leader, as my husband passed in his early hundredths without being able to pick an heir—all of you should remember the feat of the Japanese during that blasted World War Two—but I am going off track,” his grandmother smiles genially, though her eyes are shuttered with pain. Yeosang bows his head, suddenly wishing for a grandfather born a lifetime before him. “Born 200 years after Kang Yongjin, as seen in the registrar....”

Her talons run down a page of Hanja characters, written carefully and lovingly on aged paper, where she pauses on a certain line.

“Kang Yeosang, born in the year of the Earth Rabbit, 1999.”

Yeosang’s head shoots back up. _Him?_ His mother and sister whip their startled gazes to him, as does the rest of the family, surprise evident on their faces. The weight of over twenty pairs of eyes feels heavy on his lanky frame, and he tries to make himself smaller, shrinking into his hanbok.

Only his father doesn’t seem surprised, sighing heavily before nudging him forward. “Sit up straight, Yeosang-ah,” he says. “Your posture is ill-fitting for an heir of a clan. Go pay your respects to your grandmother.”

He’s pushed off his seat, legs unsteady as he stumbles over to where his grandmother is perched. Her face is impassive as if saying, _Well? Where is the heir I ordered?_ Yeosang thinks he’s going to cry as the woman beckons him forward and orders him to kneel before her.

“Hands out,” she orders. When he unfurls his sweaty palms before him, her face softens, and she puts a comforting (or at least, what he hopes is supposed to be comforting) clawed hand on his head.

“I, Kang Misun, formerly Do Misun, wife of Kang Yongin and interim leader of the Jinju Kang clan, proclaim you the heir of the clan, and entrust to you the family amulet. It is worn only by the heir, enchanted by the ancestors to protect them until they are of age to receive the sigil and role of the clan leader,” she says, accepting the amulet offered by a servant.

It’s a beautiful thing, a glittering black dragon curled protectively around the family name wrought in gold, hanging onto a simple gold chain. It’s barely the size of a baby’s palm, nothing like what he’d have expected from a clan renown for their wealth. His grandmother reaches back and fastens the amulet around his neck, and it’s surprisingly heavy given its size.

“You should know that when you accept this amulet, you are also accepting the responsibility of the clan in your hands,” his grandmother says, patting his head. “You may rise now.” There’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as Yeosang pushes himself off the ground, the barest glimmer of pride in her depthless golden eyes.

His father looks on with resignation, yet his eyes hold the same pride, as does his mother and sister. Yeosang bows once more at his grandmother, before making a mad dash back to their sides. The amulet is awkward to run with, and he fears it will snap, but does not.

“Now, the second subject at hand,” she hums, dismissing the servants. “This concerns the fate of the country itself.” She stands tall in her attire, watching all of them for a second before she nods and makes for the door. “We are here to be appraised by the Imperial Family themselves. I will say this once more: behave yourselves, for both your sakes and his.” She nods towards Yeosang. He flushes again.

“We are here to pick the crown princess of the Korean Empire.”

As if on cue, there’s a cry of _The Empress Dowager is here!_ Yeosang hears his mother squeak, pulling him up and whispering furiously to him and his noona. “Yeosang, Yeseul, remember to bow as we do at Chuseok, alright? Like those periodic dramas. This is the Empress Dowager, remember.”

Before he even has time to reply, he’s being yanked down, palms to the dark hardwood of the floor. He hears his amulet hitting the floor with a muted _clink,_ and wonders worriedly for a moment if it would get dented or scratched before a posse of black-suited men and women storm in, followed by another dragon, dressed to extravagantly in white and teal green, a jarring difference from the rest of the room.

“ _Taehwangtaehu mama_ ,” his grandmother greets, bowing low, only for the dragon to laugh and pull her up.

“Really, always so sombre, Misun!” Her voice is bright, much like her colour scheme. Much like his grandmother, her claws are unsheathed and her scales start along her hairline, though they’re a lustrous gold instead of glittering black. “We’ve been friends for such a long time already, and yet you’re still so formal with me!”

She motions for them to get up, taking up the seat that Yeosang’s grandmother had recently vacated. “Sit, sit,” she says cheerfully, watching them rise and gingerly take their seats. “You too, guards,” she chirps, motioning for the suited people to take up the couches on her left. That’s when Yeosang spies the miniature one amongst them, giggling when Park Seonghwa tries to sit up straight like the rest of them. He's gotten his cap off, two striped ears peeking out from his messy mop of black hair. So he's a white tiger, Yeosang notes, watching what should be his dad beside him fix his posture.

They make quite a picture, two esteemed mythical creatures looking completely normal. It's cute.

His grandmother chooses to stand instead of sitting on the vacant couch on the right of the Grand Empress Dowager’s, and Yeosang wonders why, until he remembers that this was some kind of royal proposal. Would the Emperor himself show up? But for what? Wouldn’t it have been easier to summon them to the palace instead of bringing a whole retinue of guards and all?

“Well, as you all know, we are here to pick a suitable fiancee for my lovely great-grandson,” the Grand Empress Dowager says as the maid serves her the same tea and retreats to the side. “Parents do know how fussy children are, you’ll have to forgive the Emperor and Empress for being late, as well as the _hwangtaeja jeonha,_ of course.”

Everyone laughs politely. Yeosang sees Taehyun offer a weak smile, which falls as soon as the laughing stops.

“Dear Misun,” the woman sighs, setting her tea down, the painted ceramic cup emitting a soft clink as it hits the glass table before her. “Your family is as moody as you! Look at these clan colours, how very dark! It’s a wonder you all still have heirs; as if anyone wants to marry into _this_ clan.”

Yeosang chances a glance towards his grandmother. She does not look impressed, and Yeosang is worried she’ll tear into the woman, regardless of ranking or status, just for the little quip about their clan. His grandmother catches him staring, and affixes him with a _look_. Yeosang doesn’t know if that’s good or bad at all.

“If I'm not mistaken, the person seems to be you, _mama,_ ” Yeosang’s grandmother spits in a frighteningly acrid tone. “I would have thought the Imperial Family wasn’t one to pick suitable marriage partners based on wealth or power.”

The room falls silent. The guards are conflicted, hands on their guns, yet not daring to do anything in the face of these two forces of nature.

Thankfully, they’re saved by another cry of _The Imperial Family is here!_ The door is opened swiftly, servants rushing in to assure utmost comfort. Yeosang wonders if the door will be left standing at the end of the day if they're so hellbent on making the most dramatic entrances. They go through the same formalities, bowing and addressing the emperor, a stout man with broad shoulders. He looks generally pretty human to Yeosang, the only intimidation factor he has going on the emperor's robes. If he'd seen him by the side of the road, Yeosang wouldn't have pegged him as the leader of an empire, much more like a nice man with a start-up company and a stock photo family.

The empress is a pretty woman, but she's much like her husband, all nice smiles and kind nods. Yeosang isn't sure what to feel about them. How do these people run a country when they could be mistaken as the kitchen staff? That was kind of hypocritical of him to say, the newly minted clan heir, but he’s allowed an exception, isn’t he?

"Well, since we're all here now," the Grand Empress Dowager declares. "Let us pick my great-granddaughter-in-law!"

Kang Misun bows, flicking her wrist towards them. Yeosang has to fight back the urge to grin as he sees most of his female cousins stand to attention, even some of his male ones as well. "These are my grandchildren—step forward now," she commands, and they scramble to comply with her orders, standing before the imperial family in a straight line, except for the infamous Kang Raon, who watches on from her mother's arms.

Taehyun ends up somehow beside him, and Park Seonghwa smiles at them, waving a little before he remembers that he's supposed to be all big and mighty and sits up straight once more. His ears betray him though, the tufts of white and black fur twitching now and then. Yeosang wonders if they’ll be as soft as they look.

Yeosang's grandmother starts rattling off their names, ages and years they were born in, so and so on. Seonghwa's father brings out a clipboard, nodding and scribbling notes. Yeosang sort of feels like a pet being brought to the veterinarian or something.

“Well, then,” the Grand Empress Dowager’s voice jolts him out of his little world. He flushes a little until he realises no one can hear what he’s thinking anyway, then realizes he's talking to himself. “I think that is enough introduction. _Jeonha,_ will you pick your bride now?”

The question is directed towards a small boy, cheeks puffy and eyes bright. Yeosang hadn’t noticed him skulking around his parents’ feet, his hanbok slipping around his adorably rotund frame. He shies away when he realises he’s being addressed, his mother and father watching him nurturing gazes, while the guards have relaxed slightly. Yeosang can see why. He’s even more human than the emperor. Not a trace of dragon anywhere near him.

“Jeonha,” the queen speaks, nodding her head towards them. “Just have your pick.”

Yeosang thinks it’s unfair how they haven’t even acquainted themselves properly to the little prince before they’re being lined up and letting him have his pickings. What if the little boy chooses his noona and they’re separated forever because of some weird rule about male-female relationships? That was the plot of one drama his mother had watched recently.

“Him,” the prince says, so softly one had to strain to hear him.

_Him?_ Yeosang thinks he hears a record screech. His grandmother, who’d been pacing around the room until now, stops in her tracks as well, then resumes her slow prowl. “Wonderful choice, _jeonha_ ,” she says, bowing low. How did she know who he was referring to? It could be anyone from his Younghyun hyung to Taehyun!

“Are you sure, _jeonha_ ,” the Grand Empress Dowager says, her voice strained and her face strangely pinched. “Why not one of the lovely ladies? Or—”

“I don’t want them,” the prince says in his soft voice, strangely insulting yet adorable. “I want _him_. The one with the pretty necklace. He smiled just now.”

‘The one with the pretty necklace’—that was him, wasn’t it. What the hell. He should have taken it off when they’d come in, why did he keep it on? The little boy wasn’t attracted to him or his smile or whatever; he’d just seen the shiny necklace and decided that he’d wanted it. His grandmother comes up behind him, a gracious smile on her face as she holds him by the shoulders as if sensing all his thoughts.

“ _Hwangtaeja jeonha_ , it would be wise of you to pick a girl—” The Grand Empress Dowager booms.

“The _Taehwangtaehu mama_ knows that there is no rule against male dragons mating when they produce offspring all the same,” his grandmother says calmly. Wait, what? They could make babies between two guys? His parents really should have sent them to a non-human school instead of a school catering to humans and all.

“It would be wise to promote a normal relationship to the common people—” The Grand Empress Dowager says, trying to keep it together. Yeosang’s cousins all look sort of worried, heads swivelling from their parents then back to the scene in the front of the room

“And are you suggesting that whatever the crown prince is saying is _not_ normal?”

“You—!” The woman barks, face splotchy. Yeosang hears Taehyun shift imperceptibly like he’s trying not to laugh. Oh no, they’re going to be tried for treason and it’s all because the Grand Empress Dowager doesn’t like boys kissing or whatever.

“ _Halmeomama_ ,” the Emperor finally speaks. He holds himself much like his son, shy and scared, but he speaks like he’s had to deal with many of his grandmother’s episodes. ‘We let the _Hwangtaeja_ pick. It is not up to us to decide Jongho’s choices.”

So the Crown Prince’s name is Jongho? It’s a cute name.

He looks back to the small Crown Prince, only to find that he already has his gaze on him. His eyes are shining, face bright as he notices Yeosang looking at him. He smiles, a soft thing on his pudgy babyface, and it’s so cute Yeosang finds himself breaking out into a smile as well.

Kang Yeosang, the direct descendant of Kang Yisik and grandson of Kang Yongin, is twelve when he is proclaimed heir of the Jinju Kang clan and gets engaged to the Crown Prince of the Great Korean Empire.

All in the same day.

**Author's Note:**

> this is 50% real research, 50% winging it. korean mythology has a limited amount of creatures to choose from, so my chinese ass went "unacceptable" n started google translating everything into korean lmao
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i have no idea what clans ateez are from. everything is from wikipedia and the random namu page!!!! like i said, i'm winging it. do not! learn! anything!! from this fanfiction!!!!! it will probably not be accurate!!!!!!!
> 
> anyways if you liked this, find me on twitter! [@HElSHUl](https://mobile.twitter.com/HElSHUl)


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